Attention
by slenderpanda597
Summary: Serena goes to a Remembrance Sunday parade, and sees someone she knows in dress uniform.


(a/n – since it is Remembrance Day I thought I would write a short Berena piece – because we all need Bernie in uniform.)

Attention

"Come on Auntie Serena!" Jason shouted amongst the crowds, his breath clouding in the autumn air before him. Serena smiled and made her way over to him, sighing as they stood at a barrier before the cenotaph. Her phone buzzed in her bag, and she took it out, surprised to see that it was her daughter calling her.

"Hello! Elinor sweetheart, how are you?"

"Hiya Mum! Just, um, I'm coming back up today and wondered if I could call round later? You're not busy, right?" Serena rolled her eyes. Elinor was probably after raiding her cupboards for food again.

"Yes, course, right. But I'm at the Remembrance parade in town with Jason right now so probably won't be back home until around one? The soldiers are due to arrive for the silence at eleven and the last post."

"Mum, why are you at that?" Elinor sounded confused. "You've never been before."

"Well, I know, but Jason wanted to and I thought it might be nice. You know, show respect for our soldiers. I hope you've got your poppy on!"

"Yes, mother. Of course I have my poppy on. I'm not completely disrespectful. Anyway, are these soldiers in uniform?"

"I expect so, why?"

"Well then, have fun looking at the eye candy of men in uniforms whilst pretending to be there out of respect for your country and Jason." Serena could practically hear the laugh in her daughter's voice.

"Elinor!"

"What? We all know you have a thing for men in uniform! Your last bloke was a police officer for goodness' sake! Anyway, gotta go Mum, enjoy the eye candy!" The line went dead, and Serena rolled her eyes at her daughter's flippancy. The sound of a brass band could be heard, and Jason bounced up and down beside her.

"They're here, Auntie Serena! They're here!" She smiled. It was good to see her nephew so involved in the community spirit. She watched the military brass band followed by all of the soldiers march past, and the army cadets of the town. Her eyes scanned over their uniforms, and she rolled her eyes. As if she had a thing for uniforms, these men were doing nothing for her. Sometimes, she couldn't believe her daughter's cheek.

The town hall clock chimed eleven, and a cannon sounded. Everyone around the cenotaph was silent, each lost in their thoughts. Elderly men and women remembering their friends and relatives lost in World War Two. Younger men and women remembering those they had lost to Afghanistan and Iraq. And those like Serena, who, despite not personally knowing anyone lost to war, understood the pain of the situation, and who kept all those lost within their thoughts. Bowing her head for the two minutes, she thought of Bernie, and all those she must have known and lost on the battlefields. And, at the same time, those who she had saved from the brink with her talented hands. Serena imagined that days like this must be hard for Bernie, and as the silence went on, she found herself praying harder that the lost soldiers were at peace now.

"They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old." The voice began, and Serena knew that the silence was over. Now, the verse from the famous poem, read at so many remembrance service throughout the country. "Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn." Serena then realised that she recognised the voice. Silky smooth, assured and confident. Her head snapped to the makeshift stage where the microphone was. "At the going down of the sun and in the morning, We will remember them." Major Berenice Wolfe of the Royal Army Medical Corps finished, and everyone repeated the final line. A priest stepped forward to say a prayer, but Serena found her eyes firmly on the Major. The Major. That's definitely what she was, no questioning it. Serena's eyes traced every inch of the dress uniform she wore, trying to commit the reds and blues and whites to memory. Her hair pinned back under her beret, she looked phenomenal. There was no other word for it, Serena thought. Bernie looked incredible. Before her mind wandered to scenarios involving grabbing those wide lapels and pulling the Major forwards towards her, a bugle began to sound, playing the last post. Everyone stood silently whilst the maudlin tune was played. Time seemed to stand still.

After the last note, the officials on the stage walked to the cenotaph, laying wreaths of poppies in remembrance to those they had lost. Then the soldiers present saluted, and officials drew their swords. Not Bernie, Serena noticed, who just held the sword in its scabbard, due to the fact that she was in the Royal Army Medical Corps, who only had weapons for defence. Serena could feel her face flushing again. Bernie Wolfe. With a sword. In a dress uniform. Goodness. She mentally recalled her daughter's words over the phone and then wanted to slap herself. Not bothered about uniforms, indeed!

Once the parade was over, Serena walked away from the cenotaph with Jason, who was tugging on her sleeve slightly.

"Did you see Doctor Bernie, Auntie Serena? Wasn't she smart? She is very good at public speaking." Serena agreed with him, and informed him that Elinor would be stopping by that afternoon, which he took in good grace, she thought.

Elinor flopped onto the sofa with Serena, her bag now filled with assorted items from Serena's cupboards.

"So Mum, any hot men in uniform this morning?" She grinned, and Serena rolled her eyes.

"Elinor, I am not interested in men in uniform!" She laughed awkwardly as her mind replayed images of Major Berenice Wolfe in her dress uniform. No, Serena though, she definitely wasn't interested in men in uniform, but she wasn't averse to a uniform, not at all…

"Morning! Have a good weekend?" Bernie smiled at Serena as she entered the office on Monday morning, placing a coffee down on Serena's desk. Serena grinned up at her.

"Oh perfect, thanks. Elinor called round yesterday afternoon to relieve me of most of the contents of my cupboards, but that was fine given that I was still reeling from seeing you in your uniform at the Remembrance Sunday parade." Bernie visibly blushed at the words, ducking her head.

"I… Uh… I didn't know you were going."

"Jason wanted to, and I thought it might be nice to show respect to our forces. You suit your formals magnificently, by the way, Major." Bernie coughed.

"I was hoping that nobody from work would be there if I'm honest. I agreed when they asked me as Holby's highest ranked recently discharged soldier, but I didn't want anyone there. Hoped it would be pretty low-key."

"Why didn't you want us there?" Bernie looked away again.

"My, um, uniform…"

"You looked dashing, Major. Besides, Raf and the others saw you in your uniform when you were first admitted." Serena smiled at her again, and Bernie blushed once more.

"That's my fatigues. I don't mind them, I'm comfy in them. It's dress uniform I'm more nervous about." Bernie sipped her coffee.

"Major Berenice Wolfe, if I looked as good as you did in something like that I would wear it more often. However, I haven't seen you in your fatigues, and if you're comfy in them maybe I should come round one evening." Serena leaned forward, delighting in how Bernie's face flashed through a range of emotion, from discomfort to amusement, and then she looked back at Serena, eyes glittering.

"Well it's some military style discipline you're looking for, Ms Campbell, I'm game if you are." Serena bit her lip to prevent herself from squeaking in delight, especially at the voice Bernie used, positively dripping with lust. She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, since you're offering, Major."

"Fatigues?"

"Tonight?"

"My place?"

"Okay."

Serena spent the rest of her shift in a daze, and between sharing heated looks with Bernie and imagining her in her uniform, Serena managed to message Jason (after Bernie had gone home from her shift with a wink at Serena) to say she would be staying late. And, when the end of the shift came, she practically ran to her car in the knowledge that she certainly would not be forgetting the events which would take place that night.

~finite~

(a/n – the poem excerpt is from For the Fallen by Robert Laurence Binyon. Thanks for reviews etc.)


End file.
